image credit: Cathy Lees
Of Two Minds
Dear Miss Manners, teach me
how to reach a decision.
When I reach for it, what will
it feel like, fingertips
grazing my fingertips, or just
dead air where we
expect a door knob or wall to be.
Dear Mrs. Mannerisms,
are you the same woman every
place you go, are you Ms.
Matterhorn when you encounter
strangers, are you Miss
Dark Matter in the studio or lab,
Dr. Matter of Fact in
the car, at the bank. Is it polite
to ask someone their
age. Are we obsessed with weight
because our psyches
feel huge, yet we know we were
made to eventually
shed every pound we seem to own,
are we able to look at
our bodies and faces in the mirror
and know how our skin
drapes on the bone. There are spots
we will never see on our
own bodies, my darling Miss Manners.
What is the appropriate
response to that. Did you instruct
pop stars to recreate
epiphany in their songs by way of
key change, gospel choir.
Were you hired as a receptionist
and promoted once they
heard how sympathetic syllables
sounded in your voice,
That one, you, shows real potential.
